boom Ballerina boom
by faerietaleredux
Summary: Clumsy moments and midnight walks... It was close to midnight when Joe’s car sputtered to a halt on the edge of suburbia. There was something in the air tonight. A need. A longing. Like being thirsty for something, but not knowing what. Joe/Macy. JONAS.


_For _**maybe-joleisaa,** who loves_ Joe/Macy as much as I do. And for everyone who is as annoyed as me over the site's evil malfunctioning lately._

**.**

**. Boom**.**Ballerina**.**Boom .**

**.**

**Morning**s never seemed to agree with Macy. Waking up was fine, breakfast was fine, but everything after that tended to fall apart. Today was no exception.

Sleeping in had made her miss the morning carpool, which meant she had to ride her bike to school. And pedaling eight miles uphill, in turn, meant she was pretty sweaty and gross when she ran smack into Joe Lucas.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! Are you ok?"

He seemed momentarily stunned but laughed it off. "I'm fine. You?"

"Just peachy," she said, in her best chipper voice and bent down to pick up the contents of her purse, which had had spilled all over the tile floor. She picked up her keys and a tin of altoids.

Joe crouched down and picked up the items nearest him. He examined the little paper wrapped mound and Macy jumped, snatching it from him with an "Eep!"

"Haha," she said, laughing uncomfortably as she shoved the tampon in her purse. "I don't think you'll be needing that."

He just raised an eyebrow, not sure what had happened. And then he held his hand out to her with the other item he'd picked up.

All she needed to see was the smirk on his face to know it was the Burger King gift card with JONAS on it (shameless advertising) looking pouty and… well, adorable. _Oh, how embarrassing_.

She wanted to retract into the wall but he just smirked even bigger and winked before heading off to class. Yes, that's right. He_ winked_ at her. She wasn't sure whether to roll her eyes or faint right there in the middle of the hallway. She was already late so she settled for stumbling along, a momentarily drunk-on-joy fangirl.

**.**

**_&_****  
**

**.**

It was close to **midnight** when Joe's car sputtered to a halt on the edge of suburbia. Taking his dad's work-in-progress '67 Chevy out for a night's stroll probably wasn't the best plan, but Joe didn't care. There was something in the air tonight. A_ need._ A _longing_. It was like being thirsty for something, but not knowing what.

Staring into the black star-sprinkled horizon, he left the car parked on the curb. He'd send a text to Kevin later to ask for a ride. And maybe a tow truck.

For now he just felt like wandering. The house could be so stifling sometimes. And leaving it usually meant awkwardly evading throngs of desperate fans. But there wasn't even paparazzi out lurking here. No structure or pre-arranged plotlines--just him and the cold night air. It felt _so _good.

Muffled music came from somewhere—one of the houses, he assumed, though he couldn't make out which—

_"Bumm bah dada dah. Bum bah dah."_

Joe stopped mid-step. He recognized that tune.

_"Bumm bah dada dah. Bum bah dah."_

He smirked. It wasn't a JONAS song, but it was definitely his work. He'd collaborated with another artist and she'd released the track a few months ago.

It's hard to explain the rush of emotion that comes from knowing someone enjoys what you've created. The first time he heard a JONAS song played on the radio he thought his heart would explode from the sheer joy of that one moment. But even now, years later, standing outside and hearing some kid play a song he helped make—it was_ such _a compliment.

Joe scanned the row of houses, trying to decipher the direction the sound came from. And then veered straight towards it.

He stopped in front of a paneled house shining grey in the moonlight and looked up. _Figures it'd be coming from the second floor._

It was odd. He couldn't shake the desire to sneak a peek at the listener. It was probably some ten year old trying to be emo. But still, even that might be amusing.

An old oak tree stood parallel to the window in question and Joe figured it was worth a shot. It was just for one quick glance anyway, and he hadn't climbed a tree in ages (not since the drain pipe incident). It'd be kind of nice. Nostalgic or something.

The song was louder now; he could even hear the words if he strained. But mostly he just _felt_ the all-encompassing vibration of the bass.

He started slowly up the trunk, one foot at a time. And then threw caution to the wind and just leaped upward, pulling himself up with his arms. He was a bit of a showoff, even when no one was around.

Positioning himself on the center branch, he peered through the open window and into the brightly lit room. It wasn't someone's bedroom after all, but a long rectangular room with bare floors and a large mirror—a mini dance studio. Joe barely processed all that though, his eyes fixed firmly on the figure in front of him.

A dancing ballerina. More urban, than classical.

Swirls of pink, purple and black—she never stopped moving.

She was utterly beautiful—twirl, twirl, twirling and then –**boom**- collapsing to the floor like those expert hip-hop crumpers.

-Spin; Circle; Jump-

It was amazing to watch. To say she moved to the rhythm would be a ridiculous understatement. In that moment, she _was_ the rhythm. She was on fire. And Joe felt his tongue thickening in response. He could taste spices in the air. Cayenne pepper and vanilla musk.

You know that camera effect where ghost trails follow a runner as he whooshes past the finishing line? Well, this ballerina did that to the space around her so that she was virtually surrounded by whisps of iridescent color. Almost magical.

Joe blinked for a while, trying to make out her face. But he couldn't; it was covered by a mask—black with purple sequins. That explained her outfit of flowy taffeta—it was some kind of costume. But for what?

Just as he was about to take a breath she leapt backwards in an other-worldly summersault, landing on her feet with a crash.

Wow.

That must've been the finale because the music stopped just after. She approached the table to grab a towel and shook her chestnut hair out of its ponytail. Dabbing the towel on her forehead, she removed the mask and pat her face dry.

Joe jumped at the sight and before he could recover his balance--_fell_ backwards out of the tree and landed in an uncomfortable magnolia bush. _Ow._

It took him a second to recover. He just sat there in the flowers for a second, his eyes wide. _Macy? That was Macy Misa?_ He just couldn't believe it.

Sure, she was a cute little thing. Always smiling and looking at him with those gooogley eyes. But she was always tripping over herself and running into things. How could she be so… graceful?

And more importantly, what else didn't he know about her?

Definitely something worth thinking over.

Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to consider it, as the backdoor to the house flew open with a BANG and out stormed his ballerina, wielding a baseball bat…

to be continued

(by tomorrow night, if I'm good. By much later, if I'm bad o_0)


End file.
